


As a Promise Kiss

by radioaktiv



Series: Fallout Kiss Prompts [2]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gentle Kissing, Kissing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2021-02-23 15:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioaktiv/pseuds/radioaktiv
Summary: How hopeless he grew these fourteen days of nothing . The agitation and uncertainty and the lack of change that drove him nearer and nearer the notion that this had been it, and he’d never have to listen to her endless rambling again or watch as she tried to hug the entire world like a fool all the time. But here she was. And the tension of all these selfish thoughts of wondering if he would have to go back into following an empty no one , bound by ink on paper and nothing else that granted him the assurance of doing something meaningful for a change, carried by the thrill of protecting something important and worth it built up inside his chest with a painful crescendo that caused a lump in his throat. This couldn’t be an illusion. It just could not.Charon reached for her face with one hand, and she shushed in shock. They stared at each other in silence for a second.Akiss promptrequest from Tumblr! Charon is released from the uncertainty and turmoil of the Lone Wanderer's 2 week coma post retaking Jefferson Memorial.
Relationships: Charon (Fallout)/Female Lone Wanderer
Series: Fallout Kiss Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674109
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	As a Promise Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-upload! Nothing was changed from the original.

“Thank you again, Elder” she looked over the Sentinel’s moveless form on the other bed, her breath beneath the blanket the only life signal. “I’m sorry about Sarah.” Farren added mournfully.

Lyons dismissed her with a wave of a hand. “You’re awake. Soon, she will be too. Report to Rothchild when you’re ready.” Crossing both arms behind his back, the man turned to leave, taking a moment longer at the door. “Oh, your… bodyguard, has been waiting for you.”

She couldn’t hide how quickly her expression lit up. “Charon?” Shifting on the bed, she didn’t wait for him to reply. “Can he…?”

“Yes, yes. I’ll call him myself.”

Farren thanked him with a smile, leaning against the wall behind her.

Owyn needed only two or three steps into the corridor and a gentle turn of head to spot the man. Their eyes met instantly, though the Elder was certain he’s already been watching the door with vigilance - still as a watchful gargoyle - like every other day for the past two weeks. Lyons would just report the same _“Nothing yet.”,_ and his eyes would drop to the ground with no further response.

“She’s awake.”

Blue eyes widened ever so slightly and the man immediately uncrossed his arms, straightening away from the wall. This was probably the first time Owyn saw any expression cross his features.

They stared at each other for a second before the Elder added with a gesture towards the door. “You may go in.”

He’d crossed the distance to the room before Lyons could give four steps away from it.

  
Charon barely paid notice to the robot or the Elder’s unconscious daughter when he entered. His fingers twitched involuntarily when he assessed Farren’s frame. Sitting, with eyes open, moving, _alive_.

She turned her head to him and gave the widest of smiles, wrinkles forming on the corners of her eyes, disheveled hair falling on both sides of her face, paler than usual but unchanged beyond that soft sickly look. It was just a matter of a second, but he could see every detail anyway.

“Hey!” Farren held her arms open, pointing at herself. “Look, I didn’t even need a kiss from a prince!” She giggled.

His brain was in a rush, torn between believing and not believing the image before its very own eyes. She began to talk unceasingly as he slowly made his way to the bed with the caution of a spooked cat, stare fixed on her face.

Charon prop both closed fists against the bed, each at the side of her legs dangling freely on the air as she talked excitedly about something he didn’t hear, leaning slightly down and towards her.

How hopeless he grew these fourteen days of _nothing_ . The agitation and uncertainty and the lack of change that drove him nearer and nearer the notion that this had been it, and he’d never have to listen to her endless rambling again or watch as she tried to hug the entire world like a fool all the time. But here she was. And the tension of all these selfish thoughts of wondering if he would have to go back into following an empty _no one_ , bound by ink on paper and nothing else that granted him the assurance of doing something meaningful for a change, carried by the thrill of protecting something _important_ and worth it built up inside his chest with a painful crescendo that caused a lump in his throat. This couldn’t be an illusion. It just _could not_.

Charon reached for her face with one hand, and she shushed in shock. They stared at each other in silence for a second.

Unsure and confused, she tried. “... Charon?”

A second hand joined in and he pulled her close, putting an end to the distance of their lips. Farren released a surprised _hmph!_ at the sudden affection but didn’t take a second longer to lean into it. A jolt of panic crossed her brain with the imminent risk of getting caught by a Brotherhood member, but as their tongues rolled against each other with a need she wasn’t aware of until this very moment and loosened a knot in her stomach she didn’t notice until now… not even the robotic _“Heresy…”_ from the Mr. Handy convinced her to break away from Charon.

She was breathless when they parted, silence prevailing while he studied the curves of her face up close with his thumb, foreheads touching.

“It’s real, right.” He muttered, though it sounded more like a strangled question than an affirmation. “You, here.”

She swallowed, the heavy weight of their, so far, unspoken thing falling like rocks in her stomach. She couldn’t tell if the sudden dizziness was from the coma or the adrenaline.

“I…” _What are words._ It was like the entire alphabet had been suddenly stolen from her.

Farren saw something strange cross his eyes, like realization one might’ve gone too far. Feeling his fingers stiff and his frame pull a centimeter away, it was her turn to cup his face with both hands before he backed off.

“ _Yes._ I’m here.” She cooed, kissing him again briefly, reassuringly, _needing_. It had been two weeks for him, but to her… just a minute ago they were a confused and tangled mess with no grip or direction, and she was a woman with fractured pieces of things. She could care less for the Brotherhood and their taboos.

This was a tangible, _solid_ something. And it was hers. It was _theirs._

She sighed a relieved sigh, closing her eyes. “I promise.”


End file.
